A Ghost
by Wolfa Moon
Summary: A kinda Swing Kids crossover. Wilson gets a present.


A Ghost

BY: Wolfa Moon

Disclaimer: Swing kids crossover kind of. I had an idea and wrote it down. I don't own any of these characters or titles. Just an idea. Not betad. So if mistakes deal, just hope you enjoy. PLEASE REVIEW.

Getting off the elevator, House stopped walking to his office as he watched Wilson sign a form for a steam trunk a UPS man had just put in his office. The two smiled a thank you and the UPS man departed. Wilson closed his doors to his office, but didn't get to close completely. House cane held it open barging into his friends office as Wilson began to open a letter.

"Present from mommy." Wilson startled as he heard his friends intrusion.

"Uhg, House can't you knock."

"No that would be polite." House took a seat across from him. "So what did you get?" Wilson opened the letter and began to read. "You gonna share."

"My grandfather died. This was left to me in his will."

"So…" House acted like he was going to say sorry but opted with. "You gonna open it." Wilson delicately put the letter back in the envelope. He really didn't want to open it in front of House but it would be great to tease him by not opening it.

"I'll open it later. I have charts to do." Wilson stood up and went to his desk.

"Come on." House pouted as he limped to the side where he could open it. "Fine then I will." Wilson glared at him. House smiled.

"is your name James Wilson?"

"No but I can get it changed. But that would take to long. So I can either annoy the real James Wilson till he opens it or I can just Jimmy the lock." House saying making the threat real by flipping the lock up and examing the keyhole. Wilson gave up this game with House knowing he wasn't going to get any real work done till he conceded to open the trunk. Wilson closed the file in disgust and strolled next to House and sat down. He took the envelope with the details and flipped it over so the key could fall out. Wilson just stared at it. "Something wrong?" Wilson was lost in thought. He clutched the key tight.

"I only meet him a couple times in my youth and a few when I was a teenager. And whenever he saw me he looked as if he seen a ghost." He huffed out a breath and lifted the lock. House could only watch as his friend ran a hand through his hair and open the trunk. Looking into the box you saw the first level. Which was covered with letters, books, pictures and records. House picked up a record.

"Benny Goodman, hmm, swing music." Wilson picked up a letter and opened it. he began to read it in his head.

_Dear Peter,_

_I remember the day they took you away. You looked so triumphant. I can still hear you calling it's going to be alright. Swing Heil. I saved all your things. I knew Thomas would keep his word and get you out. I don't know if you'll ever get this. Maybe I am doing it more for me than for you. But I only got word through the line and was told of your escape. Told you were so not like yourself but you are still you. You are a true swing kid. I hope this gets to you someday. Just know we love you and miss you. Papa would be proud. Swing still lives. I wish you were here. But I know you can't. be safe. We send our love._

_Swing Heil!_

_Your Brother,_

_Willi_

Wilson picked up another letter. House nudged him. He looked over to what House had in his hands.

"No wonder he looked at you like he'd seen a ghost." He handed James the pictures. It is a picture of a group of young boys outside a store front. Wearing the hip fashion of the decade to swing in. House tapped on a face in the picture. "like looking in a mirror." Wilson put it down and picked up another. It was wedding pictures. "This is eerie." House picked up another. "It's you."

"No it's my grand uncle." Wilson picked up another picture. "This is my grandfather." He found a picture of another man with a wife of his own and a little girl.

"So you are a ghost. Did you ever meet him?" Wilson looked to him. His eyes asking, who. "Him?" House waving the picture with the group in his hand.

"No." Wilson's eyes began to get distant. He looked at another envelope, it was another letter.

_Dear Willi,_

_I am safe and wish I could see you. Thomas said you've grown. I'm glad you're keeping my things safe. I heard you're swinging. I'm proud to say you're an uncle. Uncle Willi. Has a nice ring don't you think. I hope someday you can meet him. William Thomas Muller. I just wish I could see you dance. Remember, it don't mean a thing if you ain't got that swing. I wish I could still. It's the one thing that I miss. That they took away. But then I found hope, and love and I live again. America is a nice place to live. But I miss home. I don't miss the Nazi's. Be safe. Swing Heil, safely. I wish I could see you. Maybe someday. We never know what the future holds. Thanks for hanging onto my stuff. That will give you a reason to see me. I love you little brother. Keep safe. _

_Love Always,_

_Peter_

House lifted the shelf out of the box and set it beside him on the couch. House whistled at his find. Making Wilson snap out of his funk.

"Nice digs." He lifted up a pair of pants. "You have got to try these on."

"No," stunned at what House had purposed. "I'm not gonna put it on."

"Yeah he had so much more taste in cloths then you. You should try it on."

"And what are you gonna do turn around while I'll change."

"Sure." House stood up and headed for the door.

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"It's in the middle of the afternoon."

"Yeah so. Works almost over." House opens the door. Wilson just stares down at the cloths like they are something House has cooked and has to eat it. "You better come out in 15 minutes or I'm sending Cameron in her to change you."

"You wouldn't"

"!5 minutes." House closed the door. Wilson sighed.

I can't believe I'm doing this, ran through his head as he pulled out a pair of suspenders.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." He repeated aloud beginning to unbuckle his belt.

House stood outside at the nurse's station. Happily humming with his iPod in one hand and the nurse's phone in the other. His ducklings came off the elevator staring at their boss. They began to report on their recent case. House just stared at Wilson's door. Then they all stopped and noticed he wasn't paying attention.

"What are you staring at?" Cameron asked as she followed his gaze.

"What time is it?" House smile only broadened. Chase raised his wrist.

"It's 5:18." Each one of them are looking at each other waiting for an answer to why their boss is staring at Wilson's door. House put his iPod earpieces up to nurse's phone. Music began to fill the overhead speakers.

"What are you doing?" Cameron asked

"Swing music. Not your genre Foreman." Foreman just crossed his arms.

"I know what swing music is, this is Louie Prima, 'Sing, sing, sing'."

"Good. And they say youth has no culture." Cameron shakes her head.

"Why are you playing it?" House nodded his head to Wilson's office. The door began to open. There was a pause. The door opened more and Wilson came out.

"Oh my god." Escaped from Cameron's lips as he stepped out in full swing attire. Wilson held his arms out, one hand holding a hat. He flipped it around and put it on his head.

"Well?" Looking at House to see if he got approval.

"Swinging. But do you know how to?"

"A little." House huffed at him. Wilson looked up to the sky. Almost asking for forgiveness. Tossing his hat at House he stepped up to Cameron and held out his hand.

"I don't know how."

"Just follow me." She took his hand and he twirled her around and back grabbing the other hand then pushing out. Cameron began to giggle. Wilson laughed. Chase and Foreman just watched and smiled at the scene. House held up the picture of his grand uncle and then looked to Wilson. A ghost.

The end.


End file.
